


Demon in the Fog

by captainwingdings (Greggles_Lestrade)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avocados, Blink and you'll miss it Foggy/Marci, Dark!Foggy, Demon!Foggy, M/M, Not Season/Series 02 Compliant, Succubus!Marci
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greggles_Lestrade/pseuds/captainwingdings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt Murdock is a good little Catholic boy who goes to college to become a lawyer. Little does he suspect that his new roommate and best friend will be the one to bring the Devil out in him. </p><p>-The rating will probably change later on in the story-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Demon!Foggy. Precious cinnamon roll Foggy, who is also a Demon. It had to be done.  
> The BOLDED text is his demonic thoughts shining through. 
> 
> I don't know if this will end in smut, it probably will.  
> But I DO know it will be a happy ending. After tearing your soul out. Because that's what Demons do.

When Foggy first met Matt Murdock, there was an intense tingling inside his gut that urged him to **corrupt**.

“ _God damn it._ Come on, load. Load!” Foggy yelled at his laptop, the infernal contraption. If he wasn’t _positive_ that the laptop had been made on Earth, he would have _sworn_ that it came from the farthest reaches of Hell to torment him. Several knocks on the dorm door shook him from his internal cursing of the machine. “Wha?” He called out, not bothering to look up from the swirling load-vortex of pain.

The door opened, “Excuse me, is this room 312?”

“Yeah, who ya looking for?” Foggy finally glanced up to see- “Oh.” Purity radiated off of the blind man stepping further in the room. It felt so **good**. So **delicious.** Foggy had never heard of someone so **pure** before, not in this day and age. “Ehm-” Foggy fumbled, trying to make up for the awkwardness of his pause. “Sorry.”

“What for?” The man closed the door behind him.

“You’re-” **Gorgeous. Tempting. Delectable. Perfect**. “You’re blind, right?” He watched as the man made his way over to the bare bed on the other side of the room.

“Uh, yeah, so they tell me.” The man said with a smile. A _smile_ , this man couldn’t be more _pure_ if he had a fucking _halo_ on his head. Foggy _needed_ to get his hands on him. Just a touch. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Why would it?” It took the other man putting his things down on the bare mattress across from Foggy for him to figure it out. “Oh! You’re-” **All mine**. “You’re my roomie!”

“Matt Murdock.”

Foggy jumped up and off his bed to take the other man’s outstretched hand. **Yes**. “Foggy Nelson.” The touch was like a shockwave to his system. It was so much better than he thought it was going to be. It was like biting into a delicate chocolate, with a rich, velvety cream inside and oh, a hint of darkness hidden beneath it all. **Untainted darkness in it’s rarest form: fueled by good.** Oh, this was like Foggy’s birthday and Halloween all rolled into one.

“Wait. Matt Murdock? Are you- “ At this point, Foggy stopped shaking Matt’s hand, only to avoid more awkwardness, of course. “You’re not from Hell’s Kitchen are you?”

“Yeah, born and raised.” Although Matt probably didn’t know he was doing it, he puffed out his chest slightly and held his head in such a way that said ‘you wanna make something of it?’ Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t one of the best neighborhoods and there was no way that Matt didn’t come out of there a fighter.

“So am I! Yeah I heard about you when you were a kid.” This happened to be _the_ Matt Murdock, local child hero all grown up. Foggy couldn’t contain his excitement.  “What you did? Saving that guy crossing the street?”

Matt fumbled modestly, “I- I just did what anyone would have.”

“Bullshit, you are a hero.” This was just too good to be true, pure _and_ naive? Foggy was in Heaven...or, rather, not. Matt Murdock was a breed all his own, a rare find in a world full of sin. Foggy was already intoxicated by it.

Matt shook his head and gave an awkward laugh, “I’m really not.”

“Come on, you got your peepers knocked out saving that old dude.” Did Matt seriously not know how many people _wouldn’t_ have done that? The poor, blind, uncynical child; **Foggy was going to devour him.**

The blind man paused for a good second before saying:  “They didn’t get _knocked out_.”

“Good,” Foggy let out a sigh of relief, “Because that would be...a little freaky. No offense.” Despite being, well, a demon from Hell, Foggy didn’t exactly care for creepy things. And just the thought of someone’s eyes being popped out of their skull was enough to make him grimace.

“Please, none taken.” Matt smiled. “Uh, most people dance around me like I’m made of glass, I hate that.”

“Yeah, you’re just a guy right?” Foggy finally got a good chance to seize up his ~~**prey victim** ~~ new friend. “A really, _really_ good looking guy.” Foggy hit the metaphorical jackpot with this guy. When Foggy looked back up at Matt’s face, he is greeted with a look of shock. _Shit, shit, shit, abort._ “I mean, girls must love that. The whole-” **pure, sexy, angelic vibe you got going on** “wounded, handsome duck thing?” Matt gave up a smile, letting Foggy know he was on the right track once more. “Am I right?”

“It’s been known to happen.” **Is that a blush?**

“This is gonna be awesome!”

“What is?” You, me, us being roommates. Foggy _knew_  that he’s only scratched the _surface_ of the entity that was Matt Murdock, **and he was ready to sink his teeth in.**

“Me! As your wingman! You’re going to open up a whole _caliber_ of women I’ve only dreamed of. A _lot._ ” The more people who flock to this purity ring on legs, the more people Foggy can _persuade_ over to the dark side. And people _will_ flock to Matt. “We’re going to be like Maverick and Goose!”

Matt seemed a little overtaken by Foggy’s enthusiasm. “Okay.”

Over on Foggy’s bed, his laptop beeped at him, signalling the completion of its task. “Oh shit.” Foggy rushed over to look at the screen. “I’m in!” He said, victoriously.

“In what?”

“Eh, Punjabi, I got the last spot.” **And a beautiful girl to push towards the side of sin**. Foggy looked up at Matt and saw his face screwed up in confusion.

“You’re taking Punjabi?”

“It’s spoken by 130 million people, I’d like to know what they’re saying.” Lie. Foggy couldn’t really care less what they were saying, but he _would_ like to snuggle up to a hottie that he met during Freshman Orientation.

Matt smiled, “Is that the _only_ reason?”

“Well yeah, I mean-” was he _that_ transparent? “Why else would I learn it?”

“I don’t know. A _girl_ maybe?” _‘Are you reading my mind right now, Matt? Come in Matt, Earth to Matt, are you a telepath?’_

Matt didn’t reply to Foggy’s mental prodding, so he figured it was just a coincidence. “See!” Foggy stood up and went to sit on the end of his bed. “This is what I’m talking about. Me and you. Maverick and Goose. No secrets.” **Confide in me, Matt Murdock, and I will set you free.**

Matt scoffed. “Goose _died._ And he was married.”

“Details.” Foggy grinned. They were more like Mephistopheles and Faust or Iago and Othello. “Hey, do you know a good place to get a cup of coffee on campus?”

“No.”

“Well lucky for you I do, and it’s-” **reeks of sin** , "it’s basically a congregation of horny and angry college students as a church is to the religious, “filled with luscious coeds. Shall we?”

“Yeah, lead the way.”

 

They met Marci in a bar on the outskirts of campus. Or rather, Matt met her while Foggy was off getting their drinks (they managed to score a table, you never pass up a table). The Devil in Foggy flared up when he saw one of his kin chatting with his roommate. “Hey Matt, you got started without me, I see.” He looked down at Marci (who was sitting in _his_ chair, damnit) with not quite a glare.

“Oh, Foggy, this is-”

“Marci.” The blonde grinned viciously. “I would offer you my hand but eh-” She looked down at the two drinks Foggy was holding.

“Marci’s a year ahead of us. Can you believe we haven’t run into her yet?” Matt said, not aware of the standoff the two Demons were having right in front of him.

“Well, I bet she’s busy, with studying and whatnot.” Foggy said, _knowing_ what Marci would be busy with, considering she was a Succubus. He issued a small defeat and placed their two glasses down to swipe an empty chair from a neighboring table. “So, do you live on campus?”

“Yes, and I’ve actually seen you two around. You sort of stick out like a sore thumb.” Marci said. It was directed at Foggy, but Matt took the bait and shrugged as if it were meant for him.

“Well I _do_ try and get him out more. He’s turning into a freakin’ hermit.”

Matt shook his head with a smile, “I’m just studying, which is what you should be doing too. Tell him, Marci, everything’s easier down the road if you study now.”

“Although you make a point, Matt. I have to agree with Foggy on this one. You have to seize your youth while you’re young, or you’ll just regret it when you’re old.” She eyed Foggy’s drink and deftly reached out to grab it. “That’s what I believe anyway.” Marci took a sip, winking at Foggy over the brim of the glass.

Matt, sensing the electricity between the two, cleared his throat. “Will, uh, you excuse me, I have to use the restroom.” He stood up and grabbed his cane.

“You’ll get there okay, buddy?” Foggy asked, but Matt was already walking behind him and to the back of the bar.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve got it.” He said, leaving the two alone. They couldn’t help but turn and watch as Matt walked away. Especially in those tight jeans.

As soon as Matt duck into the men’s room, Foggy turned on Marci. “I called dibs.” He snatched his glass back from her.

Marci feigned shock. “My, my, I think we might be getting a little hasty here. Perhaps we can come to an agreement-”

“No, no agreement. He’s **mine**.”

They do end up coming to an agreement. Matt isn’t involved though.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more scene and then we'll be getting past what was in the show and into more elaborate Demon!plot. I just wanted to build up Matt and Foggy's relationship with the fact that Foggy is a Demon instead of diving right in with it all.

It was the final days of their last semester when _it_ hit Foggy full force.

“Watch out everybody, I’m blind Matt Murdock.” Foggy teased as they were walking back from a _fabulous_ night of drinking. He had somehow gotten Matt’s cane away from him and was ‘pretending’ to be him, swerving from side to side on the sidewalk.

Matt laughed and followed behind, trying to catch his friend. “Most- most people would just say _I’m Matt Murdock_.” He finally secured his cane back.

“Do I look like most people?” Foggy tried to suppress a shiver, rubbing his hands together. He _hated_ the cold weather for obvious reasons. He could always move, of course, but he was attached to the area, besides how ironic is a Demon in Hell’s Kitchen. His mother always wanted him to be a butcher.

“I dunno. I can’t see.” Matt grinned.

“Well, at the moment, that may be a blessing.” Foggy didn’t feel half as drunk as he acted. It took a whole Hell of a lot of alcohol to get a Demon drunk, unfortunately for Foggy.

“Oh God-” Foggy was rubbing off on him (figuratively speaking), “we should be studying.”

Foggy scoffed, “You’re gonna graduate summa cum laude, you can take a night off.” Even after all this time around Foggy, Matt was still a goodie-two-shoes who did _all_ his work _plus_ extra credit. It _amazed_ Foggy. “You _nerd_.”

“You’d be-” Matt laughed at Foggy calling him a nerd, “You’d be graduating with that too, if you took a few _less_ nights off.” It was Foggy’s fantasy that every time he started to go out, Matt would plead--with his puppy dog eyes--’don’t go Foggy, stay in here, with me.’ And that was where the fantasy ended. The Devil only knew he would stay in if Matt only asked him to. Foggy would do _a lot_ of things if Matt only asked.

“ _Point being_ , we are both, one day, going to be _fine, upstanding_ members of the legal profession. El grande- uh, how do you say lawyers in Spanish?”

“Lawyers? Ab...abogados.” Matt supplied.

_“El grande avocados!”_

Matt burst out laughing, “That’s not Spanish!” He managed to say between his laughing spells. “That’s fruit!”

“That’s a vegetable at _best_.”

“See, that’s what you get for taking Punjabi instead of Spanish with me. Just to chase a girl...” Matt moved his cane, trying to trip Foggy.

“What?” Foggy jumped out of the way. “No.” Matt then _apologized_ for trying to trip him. This man would be the death of Foggy. “I’ll have you know that Punjabi is the future language of the _future_...of business.” He turned to walk backwards in front of Matt. “In a couple years, we’ll all be speaking it.” Foggy grabbed up Matt’s jacket and hid his face in Matt’s shoulder. “ _She was so hot._ ”

Matt laughed, “Say _that_ in Punjabi.”

Foggy straightened and fumbled out some sounds. This only spurred Matt on _more_ , causing him to laugh so much that he was doing little bunny hops. Foggy wanted to grab him up and _squeeze him_ and _kiss him_ and **eugh**.

“Ah, shut up. Kiss my ass.”

“You can’t speak-”

Foggy spun around to walk backwards again, “No. No, no, no, no, no. Are you trying to tell me that _you_ didn’t take Spanish to snuggle up to, what’s her name?” **Operation Sabotage** , but Foggy couldn’t tell him what he thought of the girl in his mind. _She_ tried to steal Matt away from him, Foggy couldn’t help that he held a grudge.

Matt tried to deny it. “What?“ He shrugged.

“The Greek girl.”

“Uh, I- _surely_ I would take Greek.” Foggy **loved** when Matt teased him. It was just more proof that Foggy had brought him out of his shell.

“No! Because she was _taking_ Spanish, she already spoke Greek.” Foggy couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. “Whatever happened to her? She was smokin’.” He wrapped his arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“Ah, man...it didn’t work out.” There was something there that was unsaid, but Foggy couldn’t figure it out.

“When does it _ever_ with you, buddy?” He squeezed the other man to him. “ _How_ can I help you?” Foggy switched to one of his funny voices he always knew would make Matt laugh: “What are you looking for, my young padawan?”

Matt grinned. “I don’t know. Someone I _really_ like listening to.” He turned his head toward Foggy just slightly and **oh how is that not directed at him?** “Where are those stairs?” He used his cane to scan the ground before him.

“Stairs here.” Foggy guided him to the stairs.

Matt sat down on the top step heavily. “I would like to sit now.” Foggy followed.

“Yes, we sit, then we forage for hamburgers and more libations.” **Food and sin is the best combination.** Foggy laid down on the slightly damp, cold concrete.

Matt let out a little chuckle. “How about just the burgers?”

“Lightweight!” Foggy struggled to sit back up. “Hey, do you get the spins?” He asked, the words slightly slurred together. “Can you get those if you can’t see?”

“Yeah I get the spins.” Matt answered quietly.

“Really?”

“Yeah it’s-” Matt paused, thinking, “an equilibrium thing. It’s not your eyes, liquid in your inner ear gets disturbed, has trouble leveling off or something.”

“Huh. That sucks, I thought you might get a pass on that one.” _‘Let me be your shoulder to lean on. I’ll be there and I’ll cover you.’_ Shit, that’s from RENT, damn Human theatrical music, it should not be so catchy.

“No, it’s even worse for me, I think, ‘cause my senses are so-” Matt stopped himself short. Foggy blinked, that was new, what exactly was Matt going to say? “are, uh...mmm.” The Human tried to play it off but Foggy was on it like a starving man on a burger.

“So what? Delicate?” Foggy prompted, knowing that Matt was keeping something from him. **A secret, Matty? Interesting.** They usually told each other everything. Well, mostly everything.

“Yeah, you could say that.” By the tone of Matt’s voice, Foggy could see that he would speak no more on the subject. **Damn, just when he was about to find out something juicy too.**

“Hey, how old were you when you had your first drink?”

“Nine.”

“Nine?” Foggy let out a laugh. That information was a least enough to make up for _some_ of Matt’s secrecy. “Lush.”

“My dad gave me a sip from his bottle of scotch.” Matt supplied.

“Go, dad.” Seriously, Foggy would have to seek him out and give him a high five for that one (although Foggy wasn’t sure that he had gone down below. Shame.)

“He didn’t want my hands shaking while I stitched him up.” Matt said solemnly. “He got cut, pretty bad over his eye. Boxing match.” Matt never really told Foggy about his time growing up, even though Foggy **tempted him** so by telling him about his, albeit fake, family back home. But Matt was a tricky one, he never told more than he had to.

“He win?”

Matt shook his head, giving a sad smile. “No.”

Foggy stared at Matt for a moment, the sadness that he was feeding on from the other man seemed to sour. “He’d be proud of you buddy.” The Demon said quietly.

“Thanks, man.” Matt sighed. “All he ever wanted was for me to use my head, not my fists. Not like him.”

Feeling a bit sick, Foggy quickly changed the subject. “My mom wanted me to be a butcher.” Matt laughed at that. “I think she liked the idea of free ham.” Foggy smiled although deep down confused at why Matt’s sadness was causing _him_ so much pain. Yes, they were _friends,_ but only for the purpose of Foggy to **tempt** the other man. There shouldn’t have been any other connection. There wasn’t. Was there?

“Hey, they coming to graduation? Your family?”

“The whole extended brood.” Lie. Foggy had a _pretend_ family, made up of other Demons who were there on Earth doing their own things and who owed Foggy a favor. “It’s not everyday a Nelson breaks from the ranks of hardware and cured meats.”

“Franklin Nelson for the defense, your honor.”

“Defense! I like that, there’s money in that.”

“Oh, come on, is that all you care about?” **Yes.**

“No.” **Feeding the fires of Hell with the sins of Earth.** “No.” _‘You.’_ “Truth and justice and all of that.” Foggy shrugged, trying to push that last thought from his mind. “A couple of bucks?” Earth was expensive, it wasn’t built on the barter economy that Hell thrived on, of course there wasn’t exactly a deficit of Human souls either.  

Matt smiled as Foggy continued. “Me and you pal. We’re gonna have big, fancy offices one day, with steel and glass and chairs that you don’t even know how to sit in.” Foggy smiled at Matt’s widening smile. “Murdock and Nelson, Attorneys at Law.”

“Nelson and Murdock.” Matt corrected. “Sounds better.”

 _Oh._ “You think?”

“Yeah, trust me. I can’t see worth shit but my hearing is spectacular.” Although Matt couldn’t see it, Foggy gave him a truly genuine smile.

“Me and you pal, we’re gonna do this. We’re gonna be the best damn avocados this city’s ever _seen._ ” **We could rule, you and I. We could raze this place to the ground if you just follow me, trust me.**

Matt laughed, “Best damn avocados.” **Trust me.**

“Let’s get the Hell out of here, come on.” Foggy stood up and grabbed Matt’s hand to pull him up as well.

“You’re strong.”

“I work out.” Foggy grinned.

It was the final days of their last semester when _it_ hit Foggy full force. He was in love with Matt Murdock. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I didn't abandon this!  
> So I decided to cut this chapter in half, there should be more on the way soon. I'm doing Nanowrimo so I've been writing on a bunch of different things and finally decided to stop being an asshat and work on this again. 
> 
> Let me know if you find any mistakes. Nano is tough and sometimes I don't catch things like I used to. I'm just trying to crank out the words. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with it!

Foggy knew something was wrong the second he stepped into Matt’s apartment building. It didn’t smell right.

“Shit.” Foggy cursed under his breath. Someone had caught onto Matt. And by ‘someone’, Foggy meant another Demon. Another Demon had caught Matt’s sweet, pure, scent and decided they wanted a piece of that. Even though Foggy had already called dibs. Even though **Foggy had already staked claim on what was rightfully his**. Some Demons just had no sense of propriety.

He moved cautiously into Matt’s apartment (after first calling out for the other man warily). A body came tumbling out of the bedroom and face-planted on the floor. The smell of blood made Foggy’s heart race.

**It was the Devil.**

Not the _actual_ Devil, mind you, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, who Foggy suspected to be a minor Supernatural (he _hated_ calling himself that, Demons and Angels were as natural as Humans) entity and who had been terrorizing low-level baddies for more than a few months now. But...no, the man (Foggy assumed it was a man, but, of course, he could have been completely wrong) only _smelled_ like he had been in contact with someone like Foggy, not one himself.

**No.**

Something still wasn’t right. **It wasn’t…** Foggy pushed the vigilantes’ mask up and revealed, “Matt?” **Damn it. Damn everything.**

 

So Matthew Murdock was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Foggy’s head was still reeling from that unmasking. He watched silently as Claire started patching up the unconscious man as she carried on complaining about how severe the situation at hand was.

It was serious alright, Foggy’s best friend had been going out under the cover of night to fight crime and it had been going on right under the Demon’s nose for Devil knows how long. That was only _one_ thing that Foggy was pissed at himself for. How could he underestimate Matt to not even think about him being the man in the mask? Matt, with his unerring morals; Matt, who countless times _knew_ things that he shouldn’t have. Foggy cycled through all the ‘what?’ situations he had experienced with the other man over the years. Foggy was so _blind._ No one _willingly_ stays with a Demon unless there’s something different about them, something that makes them find Demons and their lifestyle attractive, and visa versa.

Foggy put his head in his hands and sighed. Claire, thinking he was worried about his friend’s health (he wasn’t. He knew Matt was going to be just fine, he didn’t smell at all like Death was lingering around him, and Foggy _knew_ that smell.) She stood up and started pulling off her latex gloves with a snap. “He’ll live, barely. He really got torn up this time. He’s lucky.”

Foggy, even if Matt wasn’t lying unconscious on the sofa, wouldn’t have tried to make a move on Claire. Her soul was stale, almost bitter to him. Understandably she was a cynic, with her line of work, a neuter, meaning that there was no use trying to recruit her, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. (To be honest, a majority of people in the health field were like that, unless they were severely good or undeniably corrupt, their souls were useless.)

The Demon made an ambiguous noise in response, which she took to be an agreement. “Call me if his status changes, but other than that all he needs is rest. _Don’t_ let him do _anything_ for at least two weeks.” Claire’s eyes burned in seriousness, and Foggy nodded, this time agreeing with her.

The nurse left with little more to say, leaving behind some extra bandages, and Foggy as alone with his thoughts, staring intently at the floor until-

 

“Oh, God.” Matt groaned, attempting to sit up.

Foggy lifted his head, “Wouldn't do that if I were you. Then again, maybe I would. The hell do I know about Matt Murdock?” **He’s a good liar, you know that. What else have you hidden away from me, Matty?**

“You stitched me up?” Matt questioned, stopping his struggle to sit.

“Nope. That was your nurse friend.”

“Claire?”

“You had me get a hold of her after you took a swing at me for trying to get you to the hospital.” **Violent little duckling.**

“I don't remember...sorry.” Foggy couldn’t hide his scoff at that.

“She was hot, by the way. But I guess you already knew that, huh?” Foggy stood up and started pacing the floor, something that he had been forcing himself not to do up until this point.

“Foggy.” Matt said in his _let me explain_ tone of voice.

Foggy wasn’t having any of it. “Just tell me one thing, Matt. Are you even really blind?’

“Wha- of course I am. Foggy, I-” Although Matt was trying to explain, Foggy cut him off to let out a rant that he had been holding in while the other man had been unconscious.

“ **You’ve been playing me this whole time, Murdock. It’s the fucking trick of the Goddamned century and I fell for it. Head over heels.** ” Matt winced. “You’re blind but you jump around the rooftops at night and do backflips into criminals’ faces. Explain that.”

Matt was silent, only for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I can see, in a way, but not with my eyes. My hearing is...enhanced, and I make a picture from the sounds that bounce off objects. It’s like...a world on fire for me. It’s complicated.”

“A picture in your head.”

Matt explained further. “It’s like...echolocation, in a way. It’s spotty, better on rainy days.”

Foggy stared at him for a second. “So you can see.”

“That's not- You're not- Are you even listening to what I'm saying?” Matt fumbled out.

“Yeah, world on fire, I got it.” Foggy replied, disbelief in his voice. Foggy briefly entertained what Matt might see in Hell, where the world was _literally on fire._ “But you can see, right?”

“Yeah, in a manner of speaking.”

Foggy stopped and turned. “But I No! No manner!” He swiftly moved over to Matt, probably showing more of his nature than he should have. Of course he could always chalk it up to Matt being injured. Far too many hits to that beautiful head of his. “How many fingers am I holding up?” Foggy got up right in his face and flipped him the bird.

“One.” Matt answered, his voice quiet and dejected. Foggy moved away from the injured man, still trying to process this clusterfuck of shit that was bringing his whole world down.

He sighed heavily and sat down in the chair across from the couch again, “Did you blow up those buildings? Shoot those cops?”

“You really even need to ask that?” Matt asked, his face showing all of his emotion.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Foggy said hollowly.

“It was Fisk. It was all Fisk.” Matt’s voice cracked.

“ _He_ did this to you?” Oh it’s on like Donkey Kong, _Fisk_. Just you and me buddy, no one touches my Matty. **No one.**

“He and Nobu.”

“ _Nobu?_ ” What the fuck is a Nobu?  **The other demon.**

“Yeah, I think he's some kind of ninja.”

“A ninja.” Foggy said dully, wishing Matt could see the expression on his face.

“I think.”

Foggy sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “What are you doing, Matt? You're a lawyer. You're supposed to be _helping_ people.”

“I am.” Matt said, firmly.

“In a mask! Do you know what they call that? A vigilante. Someone who acts outside of the law.” Foggy said, “You’re like Bruce Wayne without the money or the eyesight.” Although he still had the good looks, physique…

Matt’s phone rang on the floor beside the couch, the female voice proclaiming Karen was calling. Before Matt could find his way to it, Foggy snatched it up. Matt made grabby hands for him. “Foggy. Foggy. Foggy!” He pleaded.

“She deserves to know.”

“You can't tell her, Foggy, please.” Foggy looked back at Matt, but clicked the ignore button on the screen.

“Is this what you do? When we call, trying to get you to come out for drinks? Trying to find you _when bombs are going off_ and we're worried? You just hit ignore?” Foggy tossed the phone on the floor beside the couch, knowing that the plush carpet there would save it from cracking the screen.

“No.” This time, it was Foggy’s cell phone that was ringing, vibrating loudly in his pocket.

“I bet it’s her again.” He said, retrieving the phone from his pocket.

“Foggy, please.” Matt pleaded again, feeling like his entire life was on the line and Foggy was holding all of the cards.

Foggy answered, “Hey….We’re at his place….No, Matt was- Matt was in an accident.” Foggy said, staring a hole through Matt as he spoke to Karen. “He was in a car accident.” He lied smoothly. “No, he, um-” Was he driving? Karen, really? “He got hit….No, stay in the office, there’s nothing you can do here.... _I got this Karen._ I’ll call you if we need anything.” He hung up.

Matt looked and sounded relieved. “Thank you.”

“Fuck you.” Foggy made his way back to the chair and sat down roughly. “I want to know everything. And don't you leave a damn thing out.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time.  
> But honestly, the further you progress into the Nelson v Murdock episode, the more heart wrenching it is. I could only write in small doses if I wanted to maintain my sanity. 
> 
> This is gonna be the last chapter that follows the story-line in the show. Next up is the plot which may or may not bring what Foggy is to light. (I don't know how long this all is going to be, all I can say is it /might/ be around 6 or 7 chapters as of now, but it could change. I doubt it'll get to be 10 chapters though. If it does, I'll be thoroughly surprised.)

“That news footage of you in the alley, after the bombings, the way you were flipping around. Your dad was a boxer-” Foggy looked at the man he used to call friend,  _ best friend _ , no less. Maybe he still was, Foggy was still trying to make sense of it all, piece all the parts together to see the whole picture. “He didn't teach you any of that stuff, did he?”

“He didn't want me to fight. You know that.” Matt was half reclining, half sitting on the couch now; red cuts and purple bruises littered his body, making Foggy see just how fragile the Human was.

“So, how'd you get so good at it?” 

Matt grunted as he attempted to push himself into a more upright position. “An old man named Stick.” The look on his face told Foggy that he realized how idiotic it sounded the second he heard it out loud.

Foggy scoffed. “You're shitting me.”  _ Stick _ , was he another Demon? Only things like Foggy had strange names like that. Foggy, Nobu, Thor, Madonna, Stick.  **Of course I wasn’t the only one to see you, Matt Murdock.**

“He found me at the orphanage. Blind like me. Well,” He lifted the water bottle to his mouth, “almost like me.”  

“A blind old man taught you the ancient ways of martial arts.”  **There are stranger things in Heaven and Earth…** ”Isn't that the plot to Kung Fu?”  **Or however that fuck that quote goes.**

Matt sighed. “I know how it sounds.”

“I don't think that you do.” Foggy shook his head and went to sit back down in the chair across from Matt as the blind man continued to talk.

“He did more than start my training. He taught me that my blindness wasn't a disability, that sight was a distraction. He helped me understand everything I could do.” 

“Define _ everything _ .” His voice was emotionless, dull, Foggy knew that it was, but he couldn’t justify putting on his Human-suit anymore. 

“It's hard to explain, Foggy.” 

The Demon waited. 

“My abilities-” Matt stammered. “-I just know things, okay?” 

“No, not okay. Can you read my mind? Can you predict the future? What? What things do you just know?”  **Do you know about me? What I am?**

“I know you haven't showered since yesterday morning, but you rinsed your face in my kitchen sink. I know you had onions in your lunch two days ago.” Foggy looked away. “I know you're hungry and tired.”  **Fuck.** He stood up, not sure if he wanted to hear where Matt was headed with it all. He didn’t want to find out how much Matt  _ really _ knew about him. 

“And I know the more I say, the faster your heart beats.” 

Foggy looked back at him. “You can hear a heartbeat?” He was half  _ terrified _ that his secret would come out. “From across the room?” And half  _ fascinated _ by the Human on the couch. 

“Helps to anticipate behavior. When someone's gonna attack... when they're lying.” Matt said in a matter-of-fact way.

“Are you telling me that since I've known you, any time I wasn't telling the truth, you knew?” Matt was now the one to look away. “And what, you just played along?” There was no way Matt didn’t know. He was smart, with all the stupid hints Foggy gave him throughout the years, there was no way he didn’t know about him. 

“Basically.” 

“If you weren't half dead, I would kick your ass, Murdock.  **Am I lying about that?** ” The Demon growled, a billion different scenarios going through his head of what he could do to the Human at that moment.

Then, of course, Matt looked up at him with those,  _ damned puppy dog eyes _ , and Foggy knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on him. “No.”

 

Foggy stood at the window for a moment or two, silent as he looked out the grimy windows to the alleyway below. Matt  _ was _ Catholic, maybe he didn’t want to bring up the idea that Foggy wasn’t exactly Human for fear of… Foggy sighed and turned away from the window.  “Okay, so you get these whatever-you-call-thems when you're a kid. How do you go from that to what you're doing now?” 

Matt took a second to gather his thoughts before he began: “When I was a kid, before the accident, I'd lay awake at night listening to the sirens. I liked to put stories to them.Trying to figure out what they were for, ambulance or cops, robbery or fire. I don't know, just a stupid game.” A game?  _ ‘Oh let’s see what horrifying disaster has happened tonight. Ding, ding, ding, you are correct, it  _ was _ murder-suicide!’ _

“But after I lost my sight, after my abilities developed, I realized how many sirens there actually were, how much this city suffered every single night.” 

Foggy raised his eyebrows, “You've been running around doing this since you were a kid?”

“No.” Matt explained, “I-I tried not to fight, to make my dad proud. To to block it out. The sirens, the pain, the fear, all strangling Hell's Kitchen.” Foggy walked back over to the window.  _ Strangling _ was a harsh word, Foggy thought of it more as  **enhancing** **_._ ** “For years, I buried my head and turned away. Then one night right after we quit Landman and Zack - I heard it.” 

“Heard what?” The Demon can’t stop his voice from breaking a little. He sounded so insecure, so weak, he hated it. 

“A little girl crying in her bed, in a building down the block. Her father liked to go to her room late at night when his wife was asleep.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Foggy had to morph his instinctive snarl into a grimace. The depraved  _ fucks _ that mess with kids deserve the lowest circle of Hell. 

“I called Child Services like you're supposed to. But the mom, she wouldn't believe it. Said it wasn't true. And the dad, he was smart.” Matt scoffed as if he was remembering the son of a bitch in question. “He made sure what he did, how he did it, didn't leave a mark.” 

Foggy moved to sit down in the chair across from Matt again, glaring down at the floor as he listened to the tale. He’d call Marci. She would be able to find out who it was so that steps could be taken to ensure his placement on the  _ express list _ down under, and Foggy wasn’t referring to Australia. 

“The law couldn't do anything to help that little girl. But I could. I knew his routine. Waited till he was alone.” When Foggy looked up, the look on Matt’s face was nothing short of stunning. He had seen it before of course, back in Columbia, when someone told Matt he couldn’t do something. It was a look of determination, a beautiful flame in Matt’s eyes that made Foggy want to kneel down and worship him.

“He spent the next month in a hospital, eating through a straw. And I never slept better.”  

Foggy didn’t comment on what Matt did to the man, although he wanted to:  **I have seen the rise and fall of empires but nothing as truly beautiful as you, Matthew Murdock.** (Even though that was a lie: the rise and fall of empires? Only in the metaphorical sense.)

But, unfortunately, Foggy had to stick to the role he had been playing, the role of concerned  _ Human _ best friend. Concerned Human best friend who is definitely not a Demon. “You say all this, like one day you'd just had it with how things are. But to do what you do, you had to keep training, all those years since that Stick guy, knowing you would do something like this. Maybe it isn't only about justice, Matt. Maybe it's about you having an excuse to hit someone. Maybe you just can't stop yourself.” 

“I don't want to stop.” Foggy sat back in his chair.

 

“You're going to get yourself killed, you keep this up. You know that, right?” Foggy’s voice was emotionless, dull at the thought of Matt’s lifeless body. Although it gave the Demon great joy to see his friend kicking ass, he had to stop this. 

Matt dabbed up the blood that was trickling out of the stitches low on his side. “I can take care of myself.” 

“What about the rest of us? Me, Karen we're a part of this now, because of you. And we didn't get a say in that.” Foggy knew that bringing in Karen was a low blow, but he was a Demon for fucks sake. Beside that, he cared about Matt a little too much and he didn’t want some stupid Human (or blood loss) to get at him before Foggy had a chance to secure Matt’s place beside him in Hell. 

“What do you think's gonna happen if I give up now, Foggy?” Matt shook his head, letting his hands fall to his lap. “Who's going to stop Fisk?”

“Oh, I don't know  _ the law _ ?” 

“Tell that to Elena.” Foggy looked away, knowing that Matt just manipulated him exactly like the Demon did only moments ago. That’s law school for you. Foggy liked that old woman too, thinking she could still  _ save  _ him, so dependant on religion to save _ her. _ She made really good tamales too.

“If you could have put on a mask and prevented what happened to her,” Matt continued, “you telling me you wouldn't have?” 

“It's not fair, Matt.” Foggy knew he had a luscious body type, but there was no way he was going to go around at night and flip off of rooftops. 

“We don't live in a world that's fair. We live in this one. And I'm doing everything I can to make it a better place.” 

"A better place.” Foggy stood up, staring down at Matt, “That kind of sounds like what Fisk keeps saying.” It was the homestretch, past the point of no return. No going back now.

Matt shook his head, pleading. “Don't say that. Don't twist it around.”  **But it’s so tempting. If I break you** **_now_ ** **, you’ll come back even stronger. Although it pains me, it’s the way it must be done.**

“You tried to kill him, Matt. You told me yourself.” Foggy paused for a brief second. “How is that any different than the way he solves his problems?”

“I made a mistake. I know that.” 

“Misspelling ‘Hanukkah’ is a _ mistake _ .” Although a completely understandable mistake. “Attempted murder is a little something else. You ever stop to think what would happen if you went to jail?” By the look on Matt’s face, the things Foggy was saying was getting to him. It made Foggy tear up as well. “Or worse? You really think that anyone would believe that I didn't know what you were doing?” Matt was full on crying now and all Foggy wanted to do was scoop him up and just hold him forever. “That Karen didn't know?”

“This city needs me in that mask, Foggy.” Even crying he was still determined that was he was doing was right.  _ Oh Matt. _

“Maybe you're right. Maybe it does. But I don't. I only ever needed my friend.” The Demon was surprised at himself, he was speaking the truth. Never before had he had someone like Matt, and Foggy found himself rather attached to say the least. “I wouldn't have kept this from you, Matt. Not from you.”  **Not this, this is trivial compared to it all. There are worse things out there than Wilson Fisk.**

“You don't know that. You don't know that.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Foggy took a shaky breath in, then took his leave. Determined not to give in and look behind him. 

“Foggy wait.” Matt tried to get up to follow him, but found he couldn’t, not with the beating he went through earlier. “Foggy.”

Foggy had been alive for hundreds of thousands of years, he’d seen so much destruction, chaos, and sadness, but he had never felt pain like he did now. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as promised, I'm hopefully going to finish this in the timespan of Nanowrimo. So look forward to that.
> 
> This starts the plotline that is separate from the show, so I hope you guys like it. I'm not entirely sure of where it's going to go (for smaller events) so if you want to leave a suggestion or anything down in the comments, that would be A+
> 
> Thanks for waiting so long guys, I know it's been a while, but you guys are awesome.

Footsteps echoed in the ornate chamber, stopping just short of the small Chinese woman sitting by the window. Gao looked out at the rain falling over Hong Kong, not turning to acknowledge the man who had just walked up, but speaking as if he was there all along. “I will not fail again. I was wrong to put my faith in other people.” Her tone turned deadly, “Wilson Fisk.” Gao spat out his name like it didn’t belong in her mouth.

The tall man was silent for a moment, his eyes drawn to the haze that the rain made over the buildings of the city. “Wilson Fisk,” he spoke softly, “is no longer a player in this game.”

“He was a detriment to the operation and almost lost me the foothold I had gained in America.” Madame Gao finally turned to look up at the man at her side. The sharp lines of his suit wore well on his body, accentuating his ethereal features. “I will not have it happen again.”

The man smiled, finally turning to look down at Gao, his eyes glinting in the low light. “Of course,” his deep voice like a purr, “That is why you summoned me.”

 

It had been a few months since Fisk’s incarceration and everything seemingly returned to normal in Hell’s Kitchen. As normal as it could ever get considering Matt was still a blind vigilante who snuck out into the night to protect people who didn’t even deserve to be protected. Foggy still hadn’t quite warmed up to the idea, but at least he wasn’t bringing up arguments against it every five minutes (he _did_ start up a doc on his computer in case he ever felt the need to express _why this is a horrible idea, Matt_ ). As it turned out, Karen had figured out Matt was Daredevil quite a while ago, she cited it having something to do with Matt not disguising his voice while he paraded himself around in those tight black pajamas. (Foggy was still mourning the loss of those black pajamas. And although Matt’s new costume was more than hilarious and ultimately safer, it perpetuated the stereotype that Demons or devils were red and had horns. Note that Foggy was neither red nor had horns but a full head of luscious blond hair.)

Hell’s Kitchen was probably the most crime free area of the city, at least for a couple of months. The feeling of _sin_ slowly trickling out of the area gave Foggy anxiety. **First, sin, then what? The sinners.** It was only a matter of time until Matt got suspicious of the strange and awful events that seemed to follow his best friend. _And then what will I do?_ Foggy asked himself as he lounged on his sofa one night, beer in hand. It’s not like he’ll be able to play it off as a coincidence, Matt can literally hear if anyone is lying to him. **I could always kill him**. And for a moment, Foggy Nelson actually entertained that idea.

“For Devil’s sake, what the fuck am I thinking? It’s _Matt_ .” Foggy berated himself for even considering it for a second. It’s Matt. Wishful thinking would lead him away from Foggy’s door because he wouldn’t even start to _think_ that Foggy was in something bad, much less the cause of it. And if he ever happened to put two and two together then, well, Foggy’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

 

The weather the next day was monstrous. Dark clouds settled over the city and brought cold rain that soaked down to the bone. It definitely wasn’t Foggy’s favorite weather, he much preferred the heat waves that so often oppressively sat over the city during the summer, but knowing that everyone else was miserable and cold too, made something glow warm in his chest. He was just about to walk in the door of Nelson and Murdock when he heard a loud thud.

Foggy slowly opened the door just enough to peer in and see Karen looking a bit disheveled, holding a rolled up newspaper and glaring at her desk. With his nerves now calmed knowing that Matt hadn’t brought any of his ninja stuff to the office, he opened the door a little bit wider, “Good...morning?” Karen spun around, her face starting to flush red with fury.

“No. No, it is _not_ a good morning,” Karen fumed. The newspaper in her hand looked beaten up, as if it had already been thoroughly used earlier that day.

Matt appeared in the doorway to his office room, holding a cup of coffee. “We have an infestation,” he explained calmly.

“Of _spiders!_ ” Karen added, definitely not as calmly. Foggy stepped fully in the office and looked around, the door closing behind him. Sure enough, there was a cobweb already forming in the corner by the door and he could literally see a small black spider crawling across the floor.

“Well.” Foggy took a large step forward and crushed the scurrying spider. “Since we don’t have the money for an exterminator, I can go down to the store and get some bug spray.” He slid his shoe on the hardwood floor to scrap the bug guts off the sole. “Must be the weather,” he muttered, walking past Karen and looking out the blinds. It didn’t look like it was letting up and he didn’t really want to go out there again.

“Then we might as well go home for the day,” Karen began, throwing her weaponized newspaper on her desk. “Bug spray is awful for the normal nose, I can’t imagine what it’ll do to Matt.”

“I could pick him up a gas mask?” Foggy jokingly suggested.

Karen continued, “We don’t have any appointments for today, and it’s awful outside.”

“We could go to Josie’s,” Matt offered, taking a sip of his coffee. Why be in the office when day drinking was a thing?

“Okay.” Foggy walked back to the center of the room again. “You two head on over to Josie’s, keep a seat warm for me, and after I fumigate the place, I’ll be right over.” All in agreement, Matt and Karen quickly headed out, wanting to get out of the cold office. Foggy, however, stayed in the office and watched them walk away through the window.

Foggy turned around and examined the office again. Spiders, bugs, and things that went bump in the night were all part of the job description when it came to being a Demon. Gross, yes, but Hell wasn’t pretty either. Unless you liked smoke and fire and tortured wails. Foggy thought it was rather nice. Usually if there was an increase in bugs or spiders near your place of dwelling, there’s usually something worse that caused it.

So, Foggy being Foggy, wasn’t surprised that there was a sudden case of spiders in the office. In fact, he was more surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. His apartment complex had been dealing with a particularly nasty case of roaches for months now. _He_ didn’t have to deal with it because he’d warded his apartment against all creepy crawlers and nasty things, he would just have to do the same to the office.

After sitting his bag down on Karen’s desk, shrugging off his jacket, and rolling up his sleeves, Foggy went to stand in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes, lifted his arms before him, and cleared his throat. Just as he was about to start doing the thing, “Foggy,” snapped him out of his focus.

Staying inhumanly still, Foggy opened his eyes and glanced around the room. He would have heard Matt or Karen coming back in, and there was no one else in the room but him-

The Demon spun around quickly, coming face to face with a dark blurry figure that had been lingering behind him ominously. Foggy let out a “Fuck,” and stumbled backwards. The figure burst out laughing, form slowly solidifying into something less ominous as it did so.

Foggy put his hand on his chest and tried to catch his breath from the scare. “Fucking bastard.” He glared at the ghost, who was now leaning against Karen’s desk to keep from falling on the ground with laughter. “Seriously, Ioni, what’s the big deal?”

“Oh Foggy,” the ghost laughed, wiping the non-existent tears from their eyes. “You’re always the easiest to frighten, it’s so worth it to see that look of abject terror on your face. Classic.” The ghost straightened and pretended to brush dust from their pale frock coat. Everything about the ghost was faded and pale, except their dark skin which stood in contrast to it all. “I just wanted to check on my favorite Demonic entity.”

“I could have done without the scare but it’s good to see you again Ioni. Bring it in.” Foggy lifted his arms as an invitation for a hug and ghost willingly stepped into. The Demon put his arms around Ioni as if they were actually solid. “So why are you really here?” He let them go and went over to close the blinds in order to see them better. (The reason why ghost hunters always ghost hunt at night was because it’s easier to see ectoplasmic auras against the dark.)

“You see right through me, Foggy, as always.” Ioni’s fashion choices looked like they just walked into a theatre’s costume department and chose something from different eras. Surprisingly, it worked well together. “There’s a rumor circling around the campfire as of late. Someone summoned something...bad.”

Foggy turned to look at them. “Bad. My kind of bad, or -” Was there any other kind of bad?

“Worse than your kind of bad.” Ioni paused, “I don’t know anything else but I’m getting the feeling that it’s coming to Hell’s Kitchen.”

Foggy frowned, “What makes you say that?”

“You don’t feel it? The reason why the weather was suddenly shitty today? It sure as Hell wasn’t a fucking cold front from the north, I’ll tell you that.”

“Mass exodus,” Foggy muttered, grabbing Karen’s chair from her desk and sitting down.

“Got it in one.” Ioni walked closer to the desk, where Foggy was staring off into space, thinking of the connotations behind their words. They leaned in close and said, “I don’t know what was summoned or why it’s coming here, but sure as Hell don’t want to be here when it arrives. Just thought I’d come by and give you the heads up.” They took a step back. “Oh and get your wardings fixed, it was too easy to get into this place.” Ioni took one last look around and vanished leaving the room colder than it was before.

Mass exodus. It happened often, usually when something particularly bad was about to go down wherever; suddenly the temperatures drop and the weather turns to shit. Most of the time, the weather people could pass off some stupid excuse to the public, make something up that sounded legitimate, instead of admitting that they had no idea what was going on. Most all the Supernatural entities --the ones who weren’t looking for trouble or weren’t tied to a particular spot-- decide to hit the road, to save their own skin (so to speak). A mass exodus out of the location causing low pressure and leading to storms and cold (for ghosts and things like that, moving took energy, thus the reason ghosts were associated with ‘cold spots’).

Foggy hadn’t been near one in a while. He blinked and scrubbed at his face with the palms of his hands. He couldn’t just _leave_. Not without Matt and Karen anyway, and there was no way they wouldn’t be suspicious.

**This was why people like him didn’t get attached to Humans.**

He growled in his hands, the inhuman sound permeating the air around him. All he wanted to do right now was ward the place then go to his apartment, crank up his heater to 93 degrees and bask in the warmth.


End file.
